


Room 004 (in the basement)

by tioupfic



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Mental Health Issues, Multi, alternative universe - graduate school, idk what else to tag this as, technically speaking it's
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:31:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6465073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tioupfic/pseuds/tioupfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>hey i heard that no one was asking for a grad school au! so here it is! because college is crazy stupid but grad school is just so! much! worse!</p><p>Alex has just moved and started a graduate program which also involves teaching a 101 level course. There are 12 other student-teachers in his batch, and 8 of them are put in the same office. They become fast friends and develop a rivalry with the other office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope it's not bad decorum to have 2 in-progress works at the same time? I'm a little stumped on my other fic and the inspiration struck to write this. 
> 
> This is largely based off my own grad school experience. Some details have been changed. Some of it is true. I don't recommend grad school. We all almost died. (That's sort of an exaggeration. My dislike for reading Grundrisse is not an exaggeration, however.)

As soon as the door to their new office opened, the eight grad students dispersed quickly, trying to lay claim to the best desks. It was a basement office, cold and windowless, but at least they weren’t the unlucky four who had been randomly selected for the sub-basement. The sub-basement office was in the most remote corner of the building and apparently it tended to flood every so often. Alex had breathed a sigh of relief that he had been assigned the regular basement.

He made his way towards the back wall of the office and claimed the desk next to the printer. Nobody else had even seemed interested in that spot - maybe because it was also next to the garbage - but it was perfect for him. Now he never had to waste time walking over to the printer every time he had a new draft completed. 

They were just claiming spaces right now; nobody had brought all their books and pictures yet. Once everyone was done inspecting their new space, the guy on Alex’s right spoke up.

“Anyone want to get lunch?” The guy was relatively tall, but he was solid. He was wearing a grey beanie and looked like he probably played football in high school. 

Everyone accepted the invitation, except for one guy who said he had a lot of food allergies. 

They ended up at an IHOP which was close to campus and was situated between a hotel and an adult store. 

“So,” football-player-hat-guy spoke up once they had settled at a large table. “I’m Hercules. I used to teach home economics in a high school, but it turns out you get more money if you have a master’s. So here I am.” He glanced over at the person next to him, indicating that they should all introduce themselves. 

“Okay,” the next guy began. He appeared very elegant and spoke with an accent. “You may all call me Lafayette. I am an international student from France.”

As they continued their introductions, Alex made his best effort to memorize names and faces. Hercules was easy; he looked strong enough to be a god’s son. Lafayette wasn’t that hard to remember either. Peggy was the youngest of the group, and her sister Angelica was clearly guiding her through the whole ordeal. Angelica was beautiful and clearly astute, if slightly bitter. Alex wondered why. 

James Madison was a robust guy who spoke modestly, but who clearly knew what he was doing (at least it seemed like he did). 

The guy next to Alex was next. Alex couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was, and up close he realized that there was a small galaxy of freckles decorating this guy’s face. 

“I’m John Laurens,” he said with confidence. “And I guess I’m here ‘cause it’s the place to be! I just got my bachelor’s last summer in Cultural Studies.”

And with that, it was Alex’s turn. 

“Hi, everybody. I’m Alexander Hamilton. Most people call me Alex. I also just graduated. I’ve never taught before, so this’ll be new, and also I just moved here like 2 days ago.”

“Wow,” said Hercules.

“You will get used to it,” Lafayette reassured him. “I came here before the semester started and they made me take American culture classes. You are already American, so you will be okay.”

“So what did you learn about Americans?” Hercules prompted him.

“They told me you do not keep close friends.”

Everyone laughed and Hercules threw his arm around Lafayette’s shoulders. “That, my friend, is bullshit. How do you say bullshit in French?”

Lafayette raised one eyebrow to indicate that he was not familiar with this word. 

“If you’re gonna make it in this country, we’ve gotta teach you how to talk like an American,” Hercules declared. 

“Connerie,” Alex interjected.

“Aahh, d’accord,” Lafayette responded. “Parles-tu français?”

“Oui.”

“OH MON DIEU, ENFIN! I was the only Frenchperson of all the étudients internationaux.” 

“Hey!” Hercules interrupted. “We should have a movie night before the semester really kicks off. What’s the best movie to show our innocent foreign friend?”

“Show him Pulp Fiction,” Laurens said with a slight smirk. “He’ll appreciate the royale with cheese; it’ll make him feel at home.”

“Le Big Mac,” Hercules laughed in agreement. 

Even though it was 1 in the afternoon, everyone had ordered some variation of pancakes. Over lunch, they discussed the start of the semester tomorrow, and their new jobs as professors. 

“I’m super nervous,” Peggy admitted. “I mean, I’m only like 4 years older than the freshmen. What if I get, like, a senior who just forgot to take Freshmen Comp?”

“I think the trick is to not let on that you don’t know what you’re doing,” Madison suggested. “They don’t know any better. Most of them will be Freshmen and maybe a Sophomore or two.”

“Yeah, don’t worry sis. Washington said it’s rare to get a senior.”

“You’ll be fine, Peg,” Hercules said around a mouthful of pancake. “I have like 10 years of teaching experience and even I’m nervous!”

“Really?” Lafayette asked. 

“Yeah. I’ve never taught college before! I was nervous when I started teaching home ec, too, but after a few weeks I figured it out.”

“What if they cannot understand my accent? Mon dieu, how is it I am teaching English?”

“I went here for undergrad,” Madison said, “and there’s this one algebra teacher who can’t say x. He’s from, I don’t know, Saudi Arabia or something. And he could never pronounce x. An algebra teacher! You’ll be fine.”

“How’d he pronounce it?” Alex asked.

“Eggs.”

The table burst into laughter. 

After lunch, they ended up going their separate ways as everyone had reading to do before the first day of class. Movie night would have to be postponed. Still, everything looked promising, Alex thought to himself as he walked back to the hotel room he was living in. A new city, a new school, and maybe even a new group of friends. 

-

As it turned out, Lafayette was in the market for a roommate. His former roommate had made friends who were from the same country and spoke the same language, and it was only natural that they all live in the same apartment. Alex had been grateful for the offer, and Lafayette had been thrilled to have someone to speak French with. 

Grad school was nothing like undergrad, Alex was learning quickly. In undergrad, there was a period of leisure in the beginning, when you were just receiving the syllabus and starting to learn about the subject. In grad school, you got the syllabus and the homework in advance so that no time was wasted. Alex was, of course, up for the challenge, and he was taken the maximum number of classes allowed. In fact, he had tried to convince the department that he could handle more than 3 classes along with his full-time teaching contract. It turned out that 3 classes was a lot, especially when one of them was History of Literary Criticism.

The professor was fairly young, but had a tendency to spend and hour and a half on the first three pages of reading and then cram the last 4 chapters into the final half hour of class. Hardly any relevant material was covered, and the class met twice a week. Not only that, but their first assignment was to read Grundrisse. Literally the only good thing about this class was that Madison and Laurens were there with Alex.

“Ugh,” Laurens complained under his breath. “I had to read Grundrisse in undergrad. It was awful. I can tolerate Marx, but not his diary.”

“Was this even intended to be understood?” Madison whispered.

“NO!” Laurens whispered back sharply. 

“Laurens, isn’t your degree in Marxism?” Alex asked.

“Not really. I had to read plenty of Marx, but my concentration was in Queer Studies.”

“Cool!”

Alex wanted to continue the conversation, but the professor had noticed their whispering and had glanced sharply at them, ending the welcome distraction. 

After class, the three of them headed towards their apartments. Madison lived with his partner just at the edge of campus, and Laurens lived in somebody’s basement a few blocks away. 

When Alex got home, he found Lafayette watching Netflix with subtitles and occasionally repeating interesting phrases to himself. He was drinking from a large glass of wine and the bottle was conveniently serving as a paperweight for a stack of ungraded papers. 

“Productive evening?” Alex asked. Lafayette paused the show and removed his earbuds. 

“Ah, it’s just that… I read something that was so terribly written… even I can do better than that and English is not my native tongue.”

“What was it?”

Lafayette picked up the topmost paper and read aloud. “I was given birth by my mother on June 24th, 1994. I touched down at precisely 2:55 pm.” He paused and looked pointedly at Alex. “This is a native speaker of English but he speaks as if he was an alien. He has touched down. He has appeared on this earthly realm. He comes in peace.”

Alex burst into laughter at both the abysmal writing and his roommate’s reaction. 

“It sounds more like a football to me,” he commented. “Touchdown!!” Alex mimicked a mother giving birth and throwing the child triumphantly to the ground like football players would. 

“Mon dieu,” Lafayette said as he dissolved into laughter as well. 

“So that’s the line that broke you tonight,” Alex said, gesturing to the wine and the Netflix. “Wanna know what got me last night?”

“Please tell.”

“Generaritron. They meant generation. But no. Generaritron.”

“We must save these accounts,” Lafayette finally concluded after composing himself. 

“I’ll start a document called ‘Student Fails’.” 

“We will be able to publish a whole volume by the time we finish here.”

-

A week into the semester, everyone had settled into the office and gotten to know each other. The only exception was John Jay, who seemed to never actually hold office hours. Still, the rest of them were becoming fast friends. Hercules was the oldest, and would have been the group mom if he didn’t always make “yo mama” jokes. He was loquacious, and no one got work done if he was in the office, but as it turned out no one really came into the office for work anyway.

Lafayette kept a bottle of Xanax hidden in his desk somewhere and was always eager to discuss the drug’s benefits (any time it was mentioned he would perk up and ask “Xanax? Where?”) 

Madison had brought an electric kettle into the office on the third day and set it up in the small meeting room that was meant for student conferences. He also kept a large range of teas and mugs in his bookshelf. He mentioned his partner occasionally, but never said who they were. Everyone was sort of curious, though, because whenever he talked about them he lit up a little.

Angelica was divorced and she brought donuts for her divorce-iversary. Hercules then revealed that he was also divorced. Peggy admitted that she had been engaged but had broken it off. Lafayette had had a similar experience. Laurens mentioned that he had an abusive ex. Everyone bonded a little over their failed/horrible relationships. 

But there was an even stronger force which united the office: as time went on, they all realized how much they hated the sub-basement group. 

Everyone agreed that the sub-basement group was pretentious and awful. The most charismatic of the bunch was Thomas Jefferson, who dressed like he was the CEO of a company instead of a graduate assistant. Talking to him was a mistake because once he got going on Cicero or Aristotle or who-the-fuck-ever, he never shut up. George Clinton was just an idiot who thought his ideas were incredible. And Aaron Burr was a creep who seemed to lack the ability to have original ideas yet somehow had managed to get into a graduate program. There was one more in the group, a girl, but no one really knew who she was since she subscribed to the John Jay school of never showing up for office hours. 

-

It had been three weeks now and routines had been established. Alex and Lafayette both had evening classes on Monday, and they had started to make a habit of hanging around the office until class started. Generally, everyone’s office hours ended between 1 and 2, so from 2 until 5 Alex and Lafayette could work more or less in peace. Usually, Lafayette was just starting his essay that was due in the evening, and Alex was furiously revising his. 

They were interrupted this week by a frazzled Laurens bursting into the office around 3:45. 

“Whoa, everything okay?” Alex asked as he spun around in response to the noise of the door closing. 

“Yeah,” Laurens responded before reconsidering. “No. I don’t know. Not really.”

“You want some Xanax?” Lafayette offered. 

“Why, do you have Xanax?”

“Are you a cop?”

“No, I’m not. That would be nice, actually, if you do have some.”

Lafayette unlocked his desk and removed an orange bottle. He handed a pill to Laurens, who swallowed it dry. 

“What happened, man? You’re freaking me out here,” Alex said. 

“No, I mean, like, I’m okay. I just got really overwhelmed and my arm was numb and I thought maybe I was having a heart attack? But it’s happened before and it was just anxiety. So I tried to call my therapist, but she didn’t pick up, and I figured I probably should get out of the house for a bit. Sorry if I worried you.”

“I just was surprised,” Alex responded. “Normally it’s just me and Laf at this time. You’re welcome to join us, of course. Laf has to write his paper, though.”

“Okay. Have you started the paper that’s due tomorrow?” Laurens asked.

“Oh, yeah. I’m almost done. I have no idea if it’s coherent, though. Then again, Grundriesse isn’t really coherent so does it matter? I doubt it.”

“You’re reading Grundrisse?” Lafayette asked, looking up from his desktop. The two nodded in the affirmative. “Ugh, gag me with a spoon.”

Alex laughed. “Laf, no one says that any more. What have you been watching?”

Laurens smiled at Alex. “That’s the 80s-est thing I’ve ever heard,” he commented, allowing the drug to wash over him and relax his mind. 

“Yeah, Laf will literally watch anything on Netflix.”

“I need to learn your American idioms!” 

“You’d learn more just by sitting in this office!”

“Bah!” Lafayette returned to his work while the other two laughed. 

“You know, if you need help with it, there were one or two paragraphs that were nearly intelligible,” Alex offered.

“I think I found them. My problem is figuring out how to talk about them for five pages.”

Laurens made his way to his own desk where he was able to start working without too much distraction from the other two. He went back home only once they had gone to class.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I'm JeffMads garbage. You all probably know this by now. Join me for more Sin™

“Laurens, my guy!” Alex exclaimed as he entered the office carrying a stack of notebooks that somehow made him seem smaller than he already was. “Ready for Lit Crit tonight?”

“God, no,” Laurens replied, smiling and looking up from his desktop. “What’s with the journals?”

“I thought it’d be cool to have the kids do free write kinda things, but with a prompt. We’ll see. I just remembered one time when I did that in high school and it’s what made me go into PoliSci and English.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, my teacher had us listen to ‘The Death of Emmitt Till’ and then write a response to it.”

“You a Dylan fan?”

“After that moment I was.”

“You know what song changed my life? ‘The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll.’ The first time I heard that song it just hit me so hard. Now ain’t the time for your tears - like, it’s our responsibility to bring attention to the inequalities in the world. We can’t just lament that it’s unequal. Once we do our part, we can cry. But it’s not enough to just feel sorry. At least that’s how I always thought of it.”

“You know, I never really thought of that song that way,” Alex commented thoughtfully. Laurens shrugged modestly. He was about to say something, but at that moment one of the sub-basement people burst into the room and made a beeline for the printer. 

“Aaron Burr, sir,” Alex said. 

“Hamilton.”

“What brings you to our fine office this wonderful morning?”

“Our printer is broken.”

“Ah, the great Printer Tragedy of 2016. Well, mi printer es tu printer.”

“It’s the department’s printer, Hamilton,” Burr said as he gathered his papers and left. Alex and Laurens couldn’t help but laugh after he was gone. 

“Did you see what Jefferson was wearing today?” Alex asked, as they were on the topic of the sub-basement anyway. 

“No, what?”

“A purple velvet smoking jacket.”

Laurens couldn’t contain his laughter. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely! We teach in the same classroom; I’m right after him. I always see him in the hall.”

“Oh my god.”

“Who are we gossiping about?” Madison asked as he entered the office. 

“Jefferson was wearing a purple smoking jacket today.”

Madison smiled slightly. “That man has the worst taste in fashion,” he said mildly. 

The three of them settled into a silence while they finished their work for class. 

“Gentlemen,” Madison announced, sending his essay to the printer. “The Grundrisse paper is hereby complete.”

The other two provided a polite round of applause in response. 

-  
A month into the semester, everyone was drowning in work. Most classes had papers or presentations due, and there was also the ever-present drudgery that was grading. 

It wasn’t uncommon for everyone (except Jay) to be in the office at once. They were required to hold at least three hours of office hours per week, and everyone chose more or less the same times out of convenience. 

Alex was sitting on the long table in the middle of the room which was theoretically meant for students to make up tests. He liked to sit there a lot because he could be closer to Laurens’s desk, rather than at the back wall where his own desk was located. Peggy had pulled a chair next to Angelica, while Hercules proof-read one of Lafayette’s essays. 

“Eliza’s coming down,” Angelica announced suddenly. “She’s our sister. She works in the writing center.”

“You have another sister?” Hercules asked. 

“Yep.”

“Huh.”

Eliza burst in and dropped a book on the long table. 

“I have to write a paper on 50 Shades of Grey,” she said by way of introduction. 

“Like, how it’s terribly written or how it’s an insult to BDSM culture?” Angelica asked.

“I don’t know. I think the latter? I don’t really know a lot about it.”

“Actually, people in BDSM culture are really offended by that book,” Madison said as he turned around to face them. “It’s not only an inaccurate representation, but it’s gotten a lot of people to try out unsafe practices.”

“Isn’t it like one of the rules that you have to do aftercare?” Alex asked.

“Yeah! It absolutely is,” Madison answered. “There’s something called subdrop that happens, especially after difficult scenes. Aftercare is a must.”

“And people don’t realize that the sub is actually more in control than the dom,” Hercules added, now joining the conversation. 

“You’re right,” Madison continued. “There’s so many misconceptions about what it means to sub or to dom. The dom has to respond to the sub, and the sub is actually the one setting the pace. A good dom will never overstep what the sub is comfortable with.”

“How do you know so much about this?” Lafayette asked curiously.

“I did a lot of research for it for a story I wrote in undergrad. Since I was a creative writing major, and all. And I have some friends who are into it.”

“So not only is 50 Shades and affront to literature, but it’s also encouraging people to misappropriate a legitimate subculture,” Eliza summarized. 

“Yes,” Madison answered. “The problem is that it promotes unsafe practices. The people who read it who want to try BDSM have the wrong idea about it, and the people who are already in the subculture have to deal with an even greater stigma that their relationships are abusive. A properly managed relationship isn’t abusive at all.”

“Are… are you guys talking about… BDSM?” Everyone looked up and realized that Aaron Burr had been standing at the printer for an indefinable amount of time. 

“It’s for a paper,” Eliza responded curtly. “I’m in a New Adult literature class. New adults being 20-somethings as opposed to Young Adults, who are teenagers.” 

“O…kay…” Burr said as he stapled his essay and left the room awkwardly. Everyone laughed at the exchange. 

“I can’t believe we just had that conversation in an office,” Hercules said. “I’ve never worked in an office like this!”

Two days later, they all received an email from Washington, their supervisor. Everyone had to attend a mandatory sexual harassment workshop that Friday. Apparently, talking about sexual matters in a way that made others uncomfortable (even if they weren’t part of the conversation) still constituted sexual harassment. Who knew? The seven of them all exchanged glances throughout the workshop, and when they returned to their office, they failed to contain their laughter over the situation. 

-  
Two months into the semester, everyone knew each other well enough that office hours occasionally became therapy-recap sessions. Every one of them (with the exception of Jay, nobody knew anything about that guy) was either in therapy or was already medicated. 

Laurens was the newest member of the club, having just started that year. He had never expected that his officemates would be so supportive and kind about it, but any time he needed to vent, they were there to listen and offer their own experience (or in Lafayette’s case, Xanax). In fact, whenever any of them had to discuss mental health, the others dropped their work without fail to listen. There was a kind of joke that they had, that each one of them would have their week to fall apart. 

This week was Alex’s turn.

“I think I need to adjust my meds,” he said as he sat down on the table near Laurens’s desk. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I haven’t slept in two days.”

“Are you drinking too much coffee again?” Angelica asked, turning her chair around.

“I don’t think so? Not more than normal, at least.”

“Normal for you is too much,” Hercules said. 

“Are you stressed, mon ami? Do you want to take a Xanax?” 

“Again, not more than normal. And taking Xanax might stop my heart or something. But on the bright side, I did finish grading last night when I wasn’t sleeping.”

“I thought I heard laughing at 4 in the morning,” Lafayette commented. “Did you get any good Student Fails this time?”

“Opionion. Opi. Onion. As in, ‘that’s just like, your opionion, man’.” 

“Does nobody notice the red lines?” Peggy asked. “I had a student title their draft as ‘instructator draft’.”

“That’s because you’re the /INSTRUCTATOR/” Angelica responded in a deep, melodramatic voice. 

“One kid in my class wrote ‘Kentucky is an increasingly unhealthy country’,” Laurens commented. Alex couldn’t stop laughing. “Seriously though,” Laurens continued. “If you need me to cover for you once or twice, I’m happy to substitute. You need to sleep.”

“Thanks, buddy, I appreciate it.”

There was a knock on the door and everyone looked up. The door was always unlocked during office hours, and since it was such a large office, nobody ever knocked. Peggy’s desk was closest to the door, so she got up and opened it. 

“Is Mr. Hamilton here?” asked a timid student. 

“Yeah, he’s on the table,” she said, directing the student towards Alex. 

“Oh, hey Kevin,” Alex said, getting off the table and switching into teacher-mode. “Did you find us okay?”

“Um. You said 003, right?”

“No, 004. Next to the custodian’s closet.”

“Oh.”

“Why? Did you look for us in the custodian’s closet?”

“Yeah, and there were a couple of professors making out inside.”

“You’re sure they were profs?”

“Yeah, one of them was wearing a suit, so I’m pretty sure he wasn’t a student.”

“Oh my god,” Alex turned towards his office-mates to see if they were hearing this. “Did he have huge hair?”

“Um.. yes?”

“Oh my god, Kevin, hold on one minute.” Alex stood up and got everyone’s attention. “Jefferson is making out with someone in the custodian’s closet!”

“No way!” Angelica said, already standing and ready to investigate. It was slightly odd that all of them were so invested that they had to see for themselves, but it felt like a once-in-a-blue-moon kind of event. 

They gathered around the door to the closet and Alex slowly opened it. Sure enough, that was Jefferson with his back towards the door. The group quietly moved in an attempt to figure out the identity of the person who was currently attached to Jefferson’s face. Although they had been trying to be stealthy, there were multiple astonished gasps (and one accusation of treason) when that person turned out to be Madison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on my real experience but it's fictionalized. I feel like I have to say that? I really did spend 2 years sitting next to the printer/garbage, though.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a lams sandwich kinda (not quite yet but soon). jeffmads is the bread this time.

Madison wasn’t sure what to expect when he came down to the office the day after being caught making out with his office mates’ rival. He certainly wasn’t expecting there to be several large containers of home-made baked goods on his desk. He stood there, trying to figure it out, when Angelica spoke up.

“We, as an office, wanted to bless your forbidden love, so we made some treats for you to share with Jefferson and whomever you want.”

“Also, sorry for yelling treason,” Hercules said sheepishly. 

“I’m… I don’t know what to say,” Madison said, sitting down. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“We felt bad that you’ve had to put up with us badmouthing your partner for the last two months,” Peggy said. “Sorry, by the way.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Madison replied, opening one of the containers. “This is a lot. Did you save some for yourselves?” When Angelica shrugged, he insisted that everyone in the office have some of the sweets as well. 

After that day, Alex couldn’t help but notice that Jefferson’s greetings in the hall were less sneering and were almost… friendly. The thought made him shudder a little. 

-  
It was a few days later when Alex realized at 9pm that he had left an important book at the office. He had intended to use it for the essay he planned to write that night, so he went to retrieve it. 

He unlocked the door and flipped the light switch, jumping back when he saw that the office was not as unoccupied as it should have been. Laurens was asleep at his desk, hood pulled over his head and completely unaware of his surroundings. Alex quietly grabbed his book and paused to observe for a moment. 

“Laurens?” He said. “Laurens?” He repeated louder. “Hey Laurens.”

Laurens startled awake and took a few seconds to register where he was. 

“Oh, it’s just you. You scared me.”

“Why are you asleep in the office?”

“Oh.”

“Did you mean to fall asleep here?”

“Uh… kinda? The family I live with has kids that go to a different school, which actually gets a fall break. And the kids are home and they’re obnoxious and it’s just weird that I live in their basement. And, yeah…” 

“Man, that sucks! You should crash at our place! We’ve got a whole couch with your name on it!”

“It’s gonna be a week until they’re gone,” Laurens protested. 

“Yeah but you can’t sleep in the office for a week! Come on!” Alex tugged at his arm gently, pulling him towards the door. 

“It’s okay with Lafayette?”

“He might subject you to his terrible 80s movies. And he might try to paint your nails. He’ll be glad to have 20 extra digits in the house,” Alex waved a dark green fingernail in his face. 

Laurens laughed softly and followed Alex home. As Alex had predicted, Lafayette was happy to have him stay and to loan him some clothes to sleep in. 

Sleeping on the couch was infinitely better than sleeping in the office, but the best part about the arrangement was getting to see Alexander in his surreal pre-coffee state. Laurens was already half-awake when he heard one of the bedrooms doors open. He sat up on the couch to greet whomever it was, but as soon as he turned around he had to take a moment to appreciate the sight. 

Alex was wearing what must have been Lafayette’s clothes - the reason behind this was a mystery - because he was not only swimming in the t-shirt he had on, but the bottoms of his pants were dragging on the floor beneath his feet. His hair, which was usually pulled back into a slick ponytail, was loose and tangled. But the best part - John’s favorite part - was that he was holding onto the leg of a very well-loved pink unicorn. He couldn’t help but smile. 

“Morning, Alex,” he said cheerfully. 

“Oh, Laurens,” Alex responded, still trying to find his voice. “I forgot you’re staying here. Morning.” Alex moved mechanically towards the kitchen, ostensibly to make coffee. Laurens couldn’t help but ask. 

“Hey, Alex,” he said softly, trying not to annoy his extremely groggy friend. “Why do you have a unicorn?”

Alex looked at him with a confused expression before he looked down at his hand, which still held the plush creature. 

“Oh,” he said, finally understanding the question. “This is Phillip,” he held up the unicorn. “I don’t sleep well without him.” 

“Oh, okay.”

“I’m too tired to care how weird it is, sorry,” Alex said as he started the coffee maker. 

“I sleep with a turtle, usually, if it makes you feel better,” Laurens admitted quietly. 

“What’s its name?”

“John.”

Alex burst out laughing. 

“You named your turtle John.”

“It’s easy to remember. And it was better than naming it Turtle.”

“I can’t believe you’re for real. How do you take your coffee?” 

-  
Alex was convinced that they had done something to offend the basement gods, because the sub-basement had flooded overnight and now Jefferson, Burr, and Clinton were sitting at the long table with their laptops. They would have to hold office hours here until the sub-basement dried out and IT could fix the damaged computers. It was a fate, not perhaps worse than death, but certainly worse than they deserved. 

Everyone tried to carry on as usual, but it was difficult to constantly self-censure. Nobody wanted another sexual harassment workshop, though, so they made a valiant effort to keep conversations PG-13. However, this didn’t mean that they weren’t going to do their best to annoy their unwanted company. 

“Hey, Laurens,” Alex called loudly from his desk. Now that the sub-basement had been relocated, he couldn’t sit on the table for their chats. “Whatcha readin?”

“Blood and Chocolate. It’s for Magical Realism.”

“Oh cool.”

“I love that book!” Hercules interjected, also at an obnoxious volume. “I read it once in high school and once in college!”

“Yeah?” John asked.

“The best part is when she rides naked on the horse, have you gotten there yet?”

“I literally just read that paragraph!”

“Niice!”

“Wait, she was naked on the horse?” Alex asked, not so much for clarification as much as to be annoying.

“Yeah, naked!” Hercules answered. “And she rode out of town on a horse while everyone watched!”

“Hercules, mon ami,” Lafayette said, turning around. “I am growing concerned by your enthusiasm for having naked moments with a horse.”

“It was relevant to the plot!” Hercules responded defensively. “Laurens, tell him!”

Laurens shrugged. 

“Ew, Hercules, what?” Angelica dropped her hands from her keyboard to join the conversation. 

“Hercules has a horse kink!” Alex teased, giggling. 

“What?! Noo! I do not!”

“Can you perverts KINDLY shut the fuck up?” Jefferson demanded, standing up from the table. “You’re probably the reason we all had to suffer through that workshop.”

“Hey, don’t blame us!” Alex responded, excited to have gotten a rise out of one of the sub-basement trio. “Washington probably walked in on you making out with your boyfriend in the custodian’s closet!”

“Well, at least I /have/ a boyfriend to make out with. Unlike you,” Jefferson taunted. 

“Oh my god, are you two in junior high?” Angelica muttered, burying her face in her hands. 

“Oh, is that the best you can do?” Alex asked, rising from his seat. “At least I don’t have to fake sick to get out of presentations. How are you even a teacher if you’re afraid of public speaking?”

“I don’t know who told you that, but just because I, unlike you, am not afflicted by verbal --“

“Thomas,” Madison interrupted sternly as he stepped into the room. He was carrying his book bag and had apparently just finished his last class. Everyone turned and looked at him; whether they had wanted to or not, they had all become invested in the train-wreck of an argument that was going on. 

Even more surprising than Madison’s appearance and reprimand, however, was that Jefferson actually shut up. He followed Madison to his desk in the back corner and sat on top of it while James sat in the chair and turned on his desktop. Madison leaned forward and whispered something, to which Jefferson responded with a loud “BUT!” and then was silenced again. Finally, Jefferson stood up and returned to the long table, resuming his work. 

It was the only time when everyone in the office actually did their work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm like 80% sure that that scene happened in blood and chocolate. it might have been a different book, though. they all blend together at this point. but there's definitely naked horse riding going on. let me know if you know whether i got the book right.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is super super short but the last thing I wrote tonight for my other fic was sad and I wanted to end the day (it's 2:30am) on a happy note, so here. Have a short chapter.
> 
> \- Mentions of BDSM  
> \- Alcohol that is probably borderline disgusting idk it might be good?

The trio were squeezed together on the couch, drinks in hand, after another long day. They were drinking because tomorrow wasn’t a teaching day and no one had to get up early and deal with kids who couldn’t be bothered to change out of pajamas.

“Did you see how whipped Jefferson is?” Laurens asked enthusiastically. 

“He is the sub in that relationship, most certainly,” Lafayette responded, reaching for his bottle of wine and refilling his glass. 

“Ew, I don’t need that mental image, please,” Alex pleaded. “Whatever they do is fine, I don’t care, but I don’t want to picture Jefferson like that, ever.”

“I bet his safeword is Hamilton,” Laurens proceeded, clearly trying to get a rise out of Alex.

“Yes, you can be quite the mood killer, mon petit hérisson.”

“I’ll have you know I’m very reliable with the ladies and with the gents,” Alex stated confidently. 

“Uh-huh,” Lafayette responded, unconvinced. “Laurens, what are we watching tonight? It is your turn to choose.”

“Shitty vampire movie!” John exclaimed, opening the laptop and eventually selecting the film he deemed least likely to be good. 

“Anyone need anything before we start? I’m going to make another drink,” Alex announced. 

“What are you even drinking?” Laurens asked, raising an eyebrow at Alex’s brightly-colored drink.

Alex shrugged. “Mai tai.”

“He calls it a mai tai but it is really just rum and capri-sun. It is not a real mai tai,” Lafayette warned.

“Suit yourself. John?”

“Yeah, sure, why not?”

“To Wednesday drinking,” Alex toasted after handing Laurens his drink and settling down on the couch. John cringed slightly at the taste of the drink. Alex didn’t notice, but Lafayette did, and he found it entertaining.

“Alexander, after Laurens finishes his mai tai you should make him your tequila sunrise.”

“I like tequila sunrises,” Laurens commented mildly before realizing the mischievous glint in the Frenchman’s eyes. “Wait. You don’t make it with, like, Sunny D or something do you?” 

“Hey, capri-sun is good and it’s cheap, but I’m not some abomination! And we’re out of tequila,” Alex said, throwing a look at Lafayette. Laurens wasn’t going to ask. 

The movie was predictably shitty, but as they got progressively more drunk it became somewhat engaging. 

“Alex looks like a vampire, does he not?” Lafayette asked about half-way through the film. 

“He does. He looks like a… reliable… vampire, if you know what I mean,” Laurens added, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Oh, shadow-kissed Alex,” Lafayette swooned dramatically. 

“But why is she shadow-kissed?” Alex asked, unable to comprehend the unique terminology in the movie. “I don’t get it.”

“I’m sure it will be revealed in a dramatic moment of realization,” Laurens reassured him.

By the time the movie ended, everyone was pleasantly tipsy and ready to fall asleep. 

“Shadow-kissed Alex, can you please see that the door is locked?” Lafayette asked in a sickly-sweet tone as he stood up from the couch. 

“Shadow-kissed Alex,” Laurens repeated. “You are called shadow-kissed because you have been kissed………….. by the shadows.”

Everyone laughed at the corny and disappointing explanation from the movie. Alex stood up and locked the door before returning to the couch. 

“Bon nuit, mes amis,” Lafayette said as he retreated to his room. 

“Bon nuit,” Alex repeated. 

“Nighty night,” Laurens replied. 

Alex and John sat in silence for a few minutes before John spoke up.

“So, should I just fall asleep on your lap or are you gonna go to bed?”

Alex looked at him questioningly - he was just a little distracted by the idea of John curled up in his lap - before realizing what he had actually meant. 

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be mortal.”

“If I were actually a vampire, I’m pretty sure the only thing keeping me from biting you right now would be the fact that your blood is probably 90 proof at this point.”

“Ouch,” Laurens tried to look offended, but it was difficult because he was also giggling softly. “You’re probably right, though. You should bite me tomorrow when I’m sober, instead.”

“Nah, when you’re sober your blood is 50% ridiculously sweet coffee. I’ll be damned if I’m going to have diabetes for my eternal lifespan.”

“Aren’t you already damned?”

“Huh?”

“Vampires. Damned.”

“Ah. Right. You know, on second thought, I’d probably change you and we could spend eternity judging people together.”

“Romantic. I can see why you’re favored by both the ladies and the gents.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Alex stood up and ruffled Laurens’s hair. “Sleep tight, Laurens.”

“Good night, shadow-kissed Alex.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can watch the vampire academy on netflix. it wasn't as bad as i made it out to be. i'm sure the books made more sense than the movie (idk i never read them, i only watched the movie and that too Not Entirely Sober). 
> 
> mon petit hérisson = my little hedgehog (aka my fave french endearment)


End file.
